


Conversant

by Lhiannon27



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:19:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7577365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhiannon27/pseuds/Lhiannon27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of the first Fire of the Universe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversant

Something was trying to stop me. Something had always been trying to stop me, I mused as I lay drowsy but not sleeping on my sister’s not exactly uncomfortable couch. What I was still completely unable to surmise was did it want; me controlled, contained or eliminated? Contained seemed far-fetched as the few people I encountered in my life who possessed both the skill and capability never showed an interest in manipulating me in such a manner, though they could have. Perhaps they knew that and why they refrained. Eliminating me? Well, that could have been done many times over by now. Given the current state of political correctness; trying to weed out and basically demand all aggressive and non-conforming behaviours be strictly controlled if not altogether eliminated – controlled seemed the most likely. Then, of course, would come the question why. Why would something or someone believe I needed to be controlled? By controlled I don’t mean someone holding or tugging on my reins. By controlled I mean someone trying to keep me from being – keep me from becoming. 

Okay, so I was mostly responsible for the destruction, or rapid evolution, of the dinosaurs. I’ll even admit to Atlantis too though I was duped by love and had help in the form a most treacherous and devious accomplice. {I’ll explain this later} Yes, I even had a hand in Pompeii, the Minoan Eruption, Crater Lake, Kikai-Akahoya {and quite a few others} but what do you expect? I’m Fire. No, seriously – I am Fire! I do not mean I have a fiery personality or temper, though both are true. I don’t even mean I am a lesser or even greater Elemental. No, I mean this in the most literal fashion. I am Fire. 

You know the whole Prometheus story – stealing Fire from Zeus to give it to man for their use and growth? Or if you prefer a different version you might want to read the “children’s” book “An Arrow to the Sun” which is the Pueblo version. Lucifer, the Morning Star? Though that’s not the only reason he did it. He actually created man, Prometheus, in the image of the gods. Really, go look it up. Well sure, he had help – Zeus breathed life into them but Prometheus created them with his own two hands. {Sound familiar? Tolkien fans ever trudge through the Silmarillion?} 

Sad thing that happened to him for it too. Well I say it’s sad but some days I’m just not sure. All these gifts freely given because Prometheus felt sorry for them and look what they have done with those gifts – besmirched each and every one and despoiled the land they were put upon. Some days I think Uncle’s punishment should have been to destroy his creations. Hey, I’m not saying having one’s liver chomped out every day is a picnic in the park, and ask Ethon, if you can ever get that close to him that is, if he actually enjoys doing it each and every day as if he had nothing else to do in life. To only be rewarded with living in fear after that quest Hercules took on – but I digress.

My deepest frustration in dealing with humans is their complete inability to ever imagine anything in terms of being outside of their own reality. Of course I realise people usually speak from their own experiences. The truth is they do possess the ability to entertain and embrace exceptional abstractions – look at the mythologies and legends called religion. Look at their art. My point here is I tell you I am Fire. Present for assisting even Hephaestus’ creations. Fire stolen from the Core of the Earth and all the average human mind can muster at best is a comforting warm hearth fire and at worst and out of control forest fire.   
The best “analogy” I can give is from the movie “Backdraft”. Ever seen it? Brilliant! You should! Anyway, there’s a point in the film where Shadow is describing what fire is to Brian. I am that and so very much more! You have to accept, wrap your brain around the fact the Fire of the Gods and all; creation wasn’t the simple tool you take for granted every day. I wasn’t their tool. I lived. I breathed. I moved with sentience; the “daughter” of Titans. Well one Titan and another creature best described as an archangel though that’s rather nonsensical term. 

Labels, classifications. They don’t really matter you know? They have no significance other than to warp and twist and re-tell the same story too many ways. To serve no other purpose than creating divisions. So many of them have, and still do kill over it – sheer semantics. Over, under, above, below and through. It’s all the same. “No! No different! Only different in your mind!” spoke the wise green figment of one man’s imagination. Truer words were never spoken. Such subjectivity so very limits man’s potential but I suppose that isn’t exactly a bad thing. They still haven’t relinquished the ideas of hoarding, possession and ownership. Uncle, though cousin really would be a much better terminology, put way too much faith in them. I cannot blame it all upon that foolish construct for opening the box. After all it was designed specifically to tempt her and she designed to open it and unleash it all {that story sound familiar to any of you *bites into an apple*} She wasn’t really a “she.” Wasn’t really female. Gods and their immediate constructs know no such restrictions. But therein is the subjective limitation of the human mind to the acceptance of abstractions.

Creatures of the Earth, the vast majority of them anyhow, need to sexes to procreate to create new life. They cannot help but to apply this concept to the Gods as well; labeling and classifying. Man created “god” in his own image then tells the story in reverse. Ah, ancient philosophies and I digress once more. You’ll find I do that frequently, but it has relative cohesion. It may seem like a non-sequitur or totally superfluous but I promise relative cohesion. It just may take a while for you to catch on. I realise that sounds insulting and condescending. I do not have any such intention. I do not function as humans do. I look like you. I sound like you. But I am not you. This goes back to the control I initially spoke of. Someone or something tries to distract me – to make me forget. It is far too late for that now, however. I’ve always remembered everything.

I’ve remembered too much been shown too much; Dragons, Demons, Father. Always Father. But then again, even he tried to keep things hidden from me. It caused a rift between us for a time. We have since come to an understanding and He is different to me now – a little darker. Not bad, just different. He literally, passed a mantel onto me a few days ago; nearly identical to his own though not quite so elaborate or large. My head couldn’t possible support antlers of that size.

\- He came to me as he never had before - an old grizzled wizard- like warriour of a man - not bent or stooped but rather vital and bright eyed. His long wild hair and beard many shades of grey. I know he had on more but all I remember him wearing was a long coat fur trimmed - some dark grey animal fur impossible to identify more from the roughening, weathering with age than anything else. 

A clear crisp fresh morning gives over to overcast skies when He arrives. This annoys but does not surprise me. Sunny cold days are brilliant, overcast ones just gloomy as they bid the possibility of snow, slush and ice. His mood today is serious but not overbearingly so. I would judge him in a good mood. This puzzles me. He's never in a good mood. For the longest time we conversed of nothing of import "Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings," and similar such things.  
At one point he is, well for him anyway, praising me for my efforts especially recently. He tells me I am exactly where I need to be. But as he is speaking these words he is shuffling me toward the dock where a grandiose longboat is waiting. As we draw closer I ask him where the boat voyages to and his reply with no emotion simply, "Asgaard." 

I am more than a little bit taken aback by this comment. I feel compelled to ask him, though he continues to shuffle me towards then onto this ship, "Why if I am exactly where I am supposed to be - why would I need to travel to Asgaard now?!" The boat is already drifting into the sea as I ask this so I cannot change my mind.   
His reply came with more than a bit of mirth and a twinkle in his eye; "You will understand when you get there."   
{lol... the old man always did have a delightful sense of humor..... for an aesirian anyway}

I remember the boat landing - there was never any crew I was aware of - I remember seeing the snow coated buildings a couple hundred yards away - smoke billowing from chimneys - I remember standing upon the ground which sparkled like faerie dust but I wasn't feeling the cold. There was something - ever further away in the distance sitting upon the horizon - I could not make out what it was - but that yes that was the important thing....

I am left wondering if that gesture means “you are now a part of the tribe,” or “No more training do you require.” Perhaps it doesn’t mean any of that at all. Father so very rarely ever chooses to communicate in a direct manner to me at all. {I prefer the methods of communication the Dragons employ} I mean I cannot expect them to just up and hand you everything. Have to figure some things out for yourself. Usually it’s the most obvious things you’ve only over thought and missed. Most things in this life really aren’t all that complicated. We just want them to be. Keeps things interesting and so called mysteries alive. Cannot take that away. After all what would people talk about during their coffee breaks? 

I don’t know how far back I should go to properly explain myself – to tell my story so that you are not any more confused than you’ll already be by my seemingly superfluous digressions. I really don’t want to bog this down with anything verbose. But I also don’t want this to be as dull and dry as a police report. Where should I begin? Oh don’t be glib and say to me “the beginning!” There’s more than one. Then again, most stories usually do have more than one.


End file.
